


Overindulgence

by EdosianOrchids901



Series: Plain Simple Prompts [31]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Domestic, Drinking, Drunken Flirting, Fluff, M/M, POV Elim Garak, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 13:42:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16220249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdosianOrchids901/pseuds/EdosianOrchids901
Summary: Dialogue prompt: “I can’t believe how drunk you are!”





	Overindulgence

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a series of ficlets based on dialogue prompts from Tumblr. Written 6/18.

Julian was generally quiet if he came home late. I always woke up regardless, of course, but his attempts to creep unnoticed through our quarters were quite considerate. 

Tonight, he was decidedly not quiet. A loud thump jarred me from sleep, and I rolled out of bed before I even fully realized what was happening. It wasn’t until I was crouched down, phaser in hand, that I reasoned that the noise was likely just my partner. 

Simultaneously relieved and irritated, I tucked my phaser into a hidden pocket and moved to the front room. Well, I certainly hoped it was my partner. Someone was trying – and failing – to enter the correct door code. 

Muffled swearing, complete with British accent, sounded from outside and I frowned. Taking pity on the doctor, I opened the door myself. “Julian?”

“Hallo, Garak!” He staggered in, somehow managing to trip over his own feet despite his enhanced coordination and fell against me. “How’re you?”

“Well, I was better before someone woke me.” Baffled, I pushed him back and looked him over. “What exactly have you been doing?”

“Was at Quark’s.” He tried to go to the couch, and instead just fell sideways. Without my quick reflexes, he’d have toppled into the wall. As it was, he ended up hanging across my arm, giggling. 

“I can’t believe how drunk you are!” I scolded, half dragging him to the couch. “I do hope you were at least with Chief O’Brien so you weren’t making a fool of yourself alone.”

He giggled again as I laid him back. “Garak.” 

“Yes, my dear, I’m right here.” Resigned to the fact that I wasn’t going back to sleep any time soon, I tucked a pillow under his head and dragged a chair closer. 

“You have scales.” Julian gave me a sloppy grin, planting his palm directly across my eye. 

“Yes, I do.” I removed his hand, and he immediately put it back. “Julian.” 

“I like how they feel, Elim.” He ran a surprisingly gentle caress across the scales above my eye, and then smiled at me. Now feeling somewhat guilty for my own irritation, I lowered my own hands to my lap and allowed him to continue tracing my ridges. 

“Were you with Chief O’Brien?” I prompted again. Surely he hadn’t walked home alone in this condition, had he? Although, there certainly hadn’t been anyone else in the corridor with him. 

“Yeah, and Jadzia.” He seemed completely enraptured with me, as though he’d never touched a Cardassian before. This level of focus was vaguely ridiculous considering how regularly and extensively he’d had his hands all over me for the past several years, but I supposed it was endearing in a way. “Should have called, sorry.” 

“It’s all right, my dear.” I closed my eyes, becoming drowsy from his light, tender affection. “I’m not in the habit of demanding that you tell me where you are at all times.” After all, I could always simply hack into the station’s computers if I was truly concerned. 

“But it’s polite.” He stroked my hair, and I gave a soft, content hum. “And I know you like polite.” 

“I do prefer a certain level of courtesy, true.” I bent, pressing a kiss to his brow. “A debate about the difference in Cardassian and Federation approaches to courtesy had better wait until you’re sober, however. You ought to sleep.” 

Julian tugged at my shirt. “C’mon, lay down.” 

“On the couch?” I questioned, widening my eyes dramatically. “There’s not very much room.”

“Elim.” He tugged at me again, looking up at me with an innocent eagerness that took my breath away.

“Oh, very well.” I squeezed onto the couch, and he promptly wriggled around until he was practically on top of me. With a resigned sigh, I combed my fingers through his wavy hair. “Sleep, my dear. I’ll get you a hangover cure in the morning.”


End file.
